


Let's Take a Walk

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Love After the Fact [70]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, All this stress is bad for the baby, Altean Adam (Voltron), Altean Prince Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Galran Prince Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Olkari Pidge | Katie Holt, Post-War, it's keith. keith is the baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: Lance and Keith spend a day together, enjoying Keith's birth quintant.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Alfor/Coran (Voltron), Allura/Lotor/Romelle (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Love After the Fact [70]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635043
Comments: 14
Kudos: 114





	Let's Take a Walk

Keith wakes up alone, which he doesn’t like because he’s been spoiled. Ears swiveling, he can hear Lance puttering about in the main room. Sighing, the Galra snuggles back into the blankets, not quite willing to surrender his current comfort.

A weight settles next to him. “Hey, beloved. Good morning.”

Keith’s eyes flutter back open, eyeing his spouse and the small pile in his lap. “Good morning. What’s all that?”

“Well, your mother told me that today is the quintant of your birth.”

“Oh. I kind of... forgot?”

“She said you might have. But rest assured, I will never forget. Get used to getting presents.” 

“Are those the things you bought from Vrek and Ilun? Not much of a present if I know what it is.” It’s a tease, but judging by the quirk of a starlit eyebrow, it’s taken as a challenge.

“Oh, I think you’ll be delighted.” Smirking a little, Lance sits on the edge of the hanging bed, pushing it back and forth with his leg in a slow, swinging motion. “You are frustratingly indifferent to superficial things, so if you show interest in anything, I'm going to notice.”

Lance sets the pelts and the boxes in front of Keith, smiling. He runs a gentle hand through the young Galra’s hair. The Galra gazes up at his mate, endeared by his efforts. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now open your presents! I never get to give you presents!”

“I don’t know that you’ve ever tried to give me presents,” Keith murmurs, lifting the smaller box.

“Yes, because you never take an interest.”

“Not in anything you can get on Altea. It’s harder for me to get things from my own planet- Oh.” Keith’s eyes light up at the loose stones, amber, already polished. “Lance, these are beautiful.”

“I know you probably wanted finished pieces, but I figured we could give them to Vetroneius. Have them make something special for you. There’s plenty there.”

“You didn’t give the hunters enough for this while they were in town. How did you-” Keith’s amethyst eyes narrow, watching Lance squirm with guilt. “Did you trade  _ all _ of your jewelry?”

“Everything I brought with me, except my belly button piece and my crown. But you’re right. You have so little from home, and I should have done something about that a long time ago.”

“I could have done something about it, too.” Keith smiles. “But thank you. I wonder if Vetroneius could make me some clothes in indigo. It would look nice with these, and be more like what nobility wears here.”

“I think that sounds wonderful. You’re a Prince of Altea, but you’re also Galra, and we shouldn’t ignore that. We should celebrate it. Now.” Lance claps his hands together, sets them on the other box. “ _ This _ is the special present. For your birth quintant, which you didn’t tell me about. Because you’re the worst. But you’re also mine, and I love you, so I hope you like it.”

Keith chuckles, always charmed by Lance’s cheerful sense of humor. He opens the box. It’s a gold hair comb, an elegant, arcing spray of gold leaves, flowers, and tendrils adorned with small pieces of amber. “Oh,  _ Lance.  _ This is for me?”

“Yes, of course. You asked for it, remember? Well not this specifically, but when Ilun showed it to me… I thought you’d like it. And I wanted you to have something nice from home.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Keith brushes a loose lock of hair over his shoulder, trying not to show how moved he is, even as his throat tightens a bit. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He’s never had something like this. Everything he was given after Shiro brought him into the city were necessities: clothes, tools, weapons, armor- all the things a Galra needs to live on Daibazaal. Everything Vetroneius and their team make for him always feel impersonal. But this comb… Lance chose this from among many items because he thought Keith would like it.

And he does. It’s gorgeous, it’s something from home, and Lance  _ chose it for him _ .

“You really like it?” the Altean asks, licking his lips nervously.

Keith pulls him into an embrace, touched. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You are so welcome, beloved.” Lance squeezes him tight, but then draws away. Far too soon, which Lance picks up on. He settles in a bit more, letting Keith climb into his lap. 

“You should get me presents from home more often,” Keith murmurs. “I’m going to have Thace send some more vakalt pelts if any come in with a party. For our kit,” he explains. “Vakalt pelts are so soft and hold warmth very well. And they’re oddly good at holding scents, so we can make them smell like us. It’ll make our kit feel safer when they’re first born, especially if you and I have to work separately.”

“Of course. We’ll have to figure out a way to send currency of some kind.”

“He’ll just get them for us, and we’ll owe him a favor or two. Reciprocity is what keeps our society moving. I’m sure you’re charmed by the rural atmosphere, but the truth is so many of our resources, including medicine, electric heat, comms devices, and stuff like that, are given to the military. We’re left with nothing more than what you’ve seen.”

“Your resources are spread quite thin, huh?”

“Not thin.  _ Uneven. _ It frustrates Lotor to no end. He hasn’t mentioned it to you I don’t think, but his relationship with his father is strained because of it.” Keith rests his head on Lance’s shoulder, admiring his gifts, running the soft fur of the pelts beneath his fingers. Lance does the same, mimicking Keith’s motions, working his scent into the fur.

“Hm, a progressive young adult not getting along with their father? I never would have thought- Come here.”

The Altean wraps an arm around Keith’s still slender waist, kisses him soundly. Keith purrs, wraps his tail around Lance’s ankle as Lance licks into his mouth.

“Lance, we-” Keith lets Lance kiss past his words. “We have stuff to do.”

“We actually don't- Hm. I just have the most beautiful spouse ever, and I love him an awful lot. I just can’t help myself.” Lance’s blue and pink eyes look him up and down, Keith suddenly anxious beneath his gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just- You’re different. I see it quite suddenly now.” Lance reaches up, brushes hair out of Keith’s eyes. “Taller, broader shoulders, like you said. Still quiet… But a more confident kind of quiet.”

“Do you like it?” Keith murmurs, pressing their brows together, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“You’re perfect. You’ve always been perfect. You'll always _be_ perfect.” Lance brushes a thumb over Keith’s cheek. “Now come on. Get moving, before I keep you here all day.”

“I have concerns about your impulse control.”

“Oh, Ancients, me too. Go take your bath while I cook breakfast.” Lance kisses his cheek, flits outside. 

Keith smiles, resting his head on his knees, tail thumping against the bed. He spies BleepBloop running after Lance, no doubt hoping for an offering. A buzzing sound fills Keith’s ears. His datapad. A glance reveals it’s his mother, probably calling to congratulate him on his birth quintant. Keith licks his lips, glances after Lance, declines the call. He doesn’t want to speak to his mother right now. The words he needs to say to her are ugly, and will be unpleasant for them both. Now isn’t the time.

“I want to go foraging,” Keith declares later, pushing away his bowl. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course!” Lance leaps up, heading outside to clean the bowls with sand the way Keith showed him last night. “Will you show me some things?”

“Sure. come on.”

Lance is not difficult to entertain. It’s one of the things Keith loves most about him. The Altean prince finds pleasure in the simplest things. Hence, they spend the morning wandering about the forest, Lance exploring, Keith enjoying being back on his home turf.

“What’s this?”

“A lichen.”

“What’s it do?”

“Grow?”

“Worst field trip ever, beloved.” Lance giggles, nose wrinkling with the playful quip.

“Uh… I used to put it around my garden to keep bugs away?”

“Amazing!” Lance squeals, gazing delighted at a clump of bright blue lichen clinging to a branch. Keith shakes his head, biting his lip against a smile of his own as he bends down to harvest some herbs from a log.

They spend most of the quintant in the forest. Keith shows him the trees and the shrubs, what plants he used to make medicine when he felt sick, or when his bones hurt, or when he was injured and got an infection. Keith shows Lance how to dig for yaro root at the lake's edge, and harvest nuts and fruits from the trees. He shows him how to find insects to roast on a fire, and how to eat them. He shows him how to make fire.

“I never expected to see my Altean mate sitting on the bare ground, eating a ten-legged terror.”

Lance rips off another crunchy leg, leaving only three attached to a lumpy bug body. “It tastes good. I’ve never eaten a bug before.”

“Tourist.” Keith munches on his own terrors. He’s trying to store up some extra nutrients before his season, in the hopes it might increase his chances of a successful pregnancy. He doesn’t trust his body in the slightest. It demands more than it should already.

“You okay?” Lance asks as they finish up, nibbling on the last of his fruit.

“I’m just thinking?”

“About?”

“Lots of things.” Keith glances up, watching BleepBloop leap through the trees. “My kittenhood.”

“Any good memories?”

“TreeTrunks teaching me how to hunt bugs. That was good.”

“TreeTrunks?”

“BleepBloop’s mom. She died when my dad did, but she helped raise me, in a weird way.” Keith slips his hand into Lance’s. “I learned to hear what she heard, see what she saw. Watching her, I learned what sounds to be afraid of and what sounds meant food. I owe my life to her.”

“Maybe BleepBloop can teach our kids some skills too, huh? We should bring them back here. You can teach them about where they come from.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we should. I think they'd love it out here.”

Later in the day, Keith takes Lance out of the forest, back onto the tundra. They make a campfire under the stars, cook fish and vegetables on sticks. As the typical cold of sunset begins to bite, Lance bundles up in their cloaks with BleepBloop in his lap, watching Keith kick dirt on the fire. Once Keith determines that he's not going to burn down the tundra, he snuggles into Lance's cloak bundle, purring softly. It seems Lance is never going to get over that; he loves hearing that sound, knowing it means Keith is happy.

They sit in the black night, and Keith turns his eyes to the sky.

“I was born on this quintant two centaphoebs ago. I would have remembered it now.”

“How?”

“Look up.”

Lance looks up, expecting to see stars, and instead seeing a huge expanse of pitch black blocking them out. “Mom says that on the day I was born, the moons were new at the same time. That only happens once every centaphoeb. Down here, planetside, quintants all tend to bleed together. Birth quintants tend to be forgotten. But once every cetaphoeb, I know exactly how old I am.”

Lance stares up at the vast blackness. It’s frightening, almost, gazing at nothing where there should be stars. He hadn’t noticed the increasing darkness. He’s spent most nights huddled in their bed, fighting off the biting cold of Daibazaani nights. " _Ancients._ "

“It was scary… Last time it happened. I was all alone, and it was  _ so _ dark. When the moons are both new, none of the lizards glow, and the gleam blossoms close, so there was literally no light. I couldn’t even see. My eyes are stronger now, because I’m older, but back then… It was like I was blind.”

“That must have been awful.” Lance finds Keith’s cold-bitten hand, squeezes it tight.

“Yeah. I was still really small. Way smaller than I am now, even. I was the perfect snack for a lot of forest predators. Gintars in particular were always coming around trying to sniff me out.”

“And what’s a gintar?”

“A gintar is an eight-legged serpent with weirdly soft, wrinkly skin. Like they should have hair, but don’t.”

“That sounds… so gross.”

“Creepy and gross. All the legs are like, just behind their weird triangle heads and then they’re just tail.”

“Nasty! Ew! Why does that exist?”

“I have no idea. I wish they didn’t.” Keith sighs, staring up at the distinct blackness that commemorates his birth. “Twenty decaphoebs. Two  _ centaphoebs. _ I can’t believe it.”

“You’re so  _ old _ ,” Lance teases. “I’m married to an old man.”

“Shut up!” Keith jabs an elbow into his mate, laughing. “I’m not  _ that _ much older!”

“About thirteen phoebs. So no, not that much older. Old enough for me to tease you.” Lance shivers. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re ready to go in?”

“Kind of? Yes. The sky is creepy. Awesome, but a little disturbing.”

“Agreed. You should make a light for us so we can get back,” Keith whispers, just a touch closer to Lance’s ear than necessary.

“O-Okay.” Lance makes a werelight in record time, a pale light in the black of the hovering abyss. The Altean beams, scales glowing in the dark, Keith’s amber-gleaming eyes shining back. “There you are.”

“Here we are,” Keith murmurs, smiling, tipping their foreheads together. “Thank you for today. It’s been…  _ forever _ since my birth was celebrated. I’m glad I got to share it with you.”

“Me too, beloved.” Lance’s smile is one of the sweetest Keith’s ever beheld. The Altean lays a hand against his cheek, and Keith leans into it with a sigh, purring with affection. 

Walking back, arms around each other, cloaks over their shoulders, the two laugh and carry on, tripping over each other’s feet before tumbling into bed. Lance makes a playful quip, kissing Keith’s cheek. Keith teases back. They laugh, fingers in hair, in fur, tracing over skin and scales. Lips on lips. For Keith, it’s the beginning of another decaphoeb. For them both, it’s the beginning of everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Next Time on Love After the Fact: Lance and Keith spend a day doing one of the worst things ever: making phone calls.


End file.
